Class Starts At Eight
by VioletCitizen
Summary: Overwatch High always had its fair share of unique students, and it just might bring down the whole darn building. The timetables are a mess, the classes are way too chaotic, and what exactly is in that lunch casserole? Thank goodness for the underpaid, overqualified, faculty, or this would be a REAL disaster. High School AU.


Heya,

Yeah I did write another thing in between chapters of HAA; because this thing was an idea that I've seen a lot of people try out and it's always caught my attention

Just so you know a lot of my ideas for this have appeared in some way or form before, in someone else's stuff (one big inspiration was distal's overwatch series) and I'm just putting my own spin on the ideas; nonetheless, enjoy

High School AU

V

* * *

Gibraltar was a small town with some big fame, holding the world record for a surprising amount of asinine things. On the west of Gibraltar was Overwatch, and on the left, Blackwatch. The two districts got along like a house on fire, in the sense that both had needed local authorities to be involved on more than one occasion.

It was a green town, with varied locations and even more varied people. Some were fairly shady, and some others were as squeaky clean as you could get in suburban America. The north had the library, the doctor's office, and the high school. The south had pretty much everything else.

(Gibraltar also had a reputation for having some of the most obscenely overqualified public servants in the country.)

Lena Oxton loved her city. She was born and raised here, like a true Gibbie, and she threw herself into social engagements with the same enthusiasm as a racetrack; there weren't many in the community who hadn't heard about the british track star.

Lena could best be described as a sort of puppy, the smallest, most excitable breed you could find. A terrier, perhaps? She had the kind of boundless energy that could end up making or breaking an evening, and she could be the life of the party, or the reason you left three hours early.

She lived in a shared accomodation with her adoptive big brother. Winston always prefered to be considered a big brother instead of, say, her "new dad". As it happened, he made enough money to support him and his sister and their little house in Gibraltar, New Jersey.

"I'm gonna be late! Lena, don't forget your homework! I'll need to-" The young teacher scratched his chin, mind moving miles a minute as he bit into a hastily thrown together PB&J, jelly smeared against his lip and his glasses sliding off his nose. He pushed them back on with a spare finger, paging through a homework assignment while standing at the kitchen table.

"Roger that, big guy!" She gave him a giggling salute as she buttered the toast, stifling a yawn with her knuckle. She hadn't changed yet, but she wouldn't need to, until Winston could get all his stuff together and out the door.

"Lena, could you fetch me the newspaper? Also, have you seen my sho-"

"Honestly, love, you should just get a live-in Athena." Winston rolled his eyes, shuffling some more papers into his bag, and throwing the crust of his sandwich into the trash.

"Aren't you changed yet, Lena? I'm gonna get there without you!"

"Ha! You wish." She was halfway up the stairs before he could retort, and he pulled up his lunchbox and briefcase, pulling his coat on and pushing past the door, and into his driveway, where his simple sedan waited with open arms.

He pushed the case into the trunk and slammed it down, huffing and opening the driver's side door, hopping into his seat.

"Lena, if you're not here, we're BOTH gonna be late!" He yelled into the house.

"Oh no! Not that!" Said her voice from the back seat behind him, followed by a playful giggle. He sighed and fastened his seatbelt, and the engine roared to life.

He pulled out of the driveway, turning to the right and adjusting his glasses again.

Overwatch High. Named after the city overlooking the lake, it was the best school in the area, and had been for the few decades it's been standing. A large squarish building, surrounded by a huge grassy field and backed by a hundred acres of forest; it was hot in summer, cool in winter, and "meh" in the other two seasons.

Already, there was a steady pileup of cars waiting to shove their kids through the doors and get outta there, but the Oxtons didn't have to worry about that mess and the silver car slides neatly into their assigned faculty parking spot.

"See you in class, Lena. Good luck!"

"Seeya!" And she hopped off, through the doors. Winston hurries to his office through the back entrance.

* * *

"Hey sis, do you know what time it is?"

Sombra groaned and shoved her hand into his face, pushing him away.

"Buzz off…"

"It's almost seven!" Jesse pointed to the alarm clock.

"I really don't care. Go away. School is _dumb_!"

Jesse Mccree chuckled, patting his adoptive sister on the shoulder and leaving.

"Well if you'd rather have dad wake you up, that's your business. He's _especially_ grumpy this morning."

Sombra's lids rose slowly, and she rubbed her eyes. Finally, she sat up, pulling the covers off and falling out of her bed. She expressed her frustration very vocally, and kicked the nightstand, wincing and rubbing her toe.

She packed up her laptop and notebooks, shoving them into her shoulder bag, before wearing a loose Star Wars T-shirt and staying in the same shorts she'd been sleeping in. Her room was too dark to find her keys, so she passed it off as a lost cause.

Her socks were littered on the carpet, and she pulled them on, hopping downstairs two steps at a time. She turned the corner into the dim kitchen, glancing at the clock and plopping her butt down into a chair, crossing her legs.

Jesse was dumping cereal into two bowls, making quite the right mess of it, as well. Sombra pulled out her phone, her nails clicking against the glass screen as her eyes scanned the dull daily news.

"Anything about the Gators semifinal?" Asked Jesse.

"Nope."

He slid a bowl of cornflakes over to her, and threw a spoon into it, before seating himself next to her.

"You really need a shave, Jess." She said.

"Huh? No way." He shoved spoonfuls of corn into his mouth like an animal, and Sombra cringed, taking small bites of her own.

Ever since Dad had adopted the delinquent, she'd been forced to get to _know_ him. They'd been on trips, to malls, eating at restaurants, and, of course, in the same class; if Sombra's head wasn't half shaved already she'd have pulled her _hair_ out. She hadn't dyed it in a week, too, and the purple was starting to come off in the shower.

And then there was Gabriel, running down the stairs in a jacket (black, like everything else), bag trailing behind him.

"Hey, guys."

"Hey dad." They both said.

"Where's… uh, my cereal."

Jesse pointed to the counter, and there it was; he picked it up, spooning it into his mouth as he walked to the living room.

"Uh, any news about-" He asked.

"Nope." Said Jesse.

Jesse looked upstairs, rather obviously. Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

"What is it, Jesse?"

"Oh, I was just expecting Amelie to come down after you."

Sombra gasped. Jesse turned away from them both, hiding his smirk in his hand; Gabe rubbed his forehead.

"No, we're having our next date tomorrow."

"Aight, aight, I'm happy for you. It's just that-"

"You spoke without thinking again, son. That's it, right?" Gabe's grit his teeth.

"Nah, I'm just being honest, and-"

Sombra cleared her throat. "Do we really have to talk about this right now?"

The men stayed silent.

Sombra dumped her bowl in the dishwasher, washing her hands and dropping into the couch and pulling out her phone again.

"You should stop that fivechad crap and start looking into college, honey. It isn't gonna sort itself out." Gabe pointed his spoon at her, chewing with the left of his mouth.

"For the last time, it's _4chan_ , and why should I? I don't even _want_ to!"

Jesse and Gabriel met eyes, and Gabe shook his head. "Can you even believe the words out of my girl's mouth sometimes?" Jesse shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.

"Alright, I gotta head out. You two _better_ be on time today, alright? I don't wanna hear one more _word_ out of Amari about attendance this term. I'll be the faculty laughingstock!"

"See ya, dad."

"Wait, so _you're_ gonna drive me again?" Asks Sombra, as soon as Gabe leaves through the door.

"Yep." Jesse downs his orange juice.

"If you play country the entire ride again, I'm gonna jump out the window."

* * *

"Up, kiddo."

She doesn't move, snoring loudly.

"Damn. Not again."

He picks the girl up, and takes her downstairs.

"Angela, she pulled another all nighter." Says Jack to his wife, who pours water into a coffee mixer, her left hand around a skillet.

A dull "Oh." Is all he gets back in return, until she looks at him and the comatose teen in his arms. "Oh!" She rushes over to them, past them, and into the bathroom.

"Put her down in the chair."

He hefts his shoulder, grunting as he lowers his adoptive daughter into the wooden chair. As he lets go, he rights himself, groaning as he cricks his back; One of these days, he's gonna be too old to do this stuff anymore.

Angela returns with a bucket of water and a sponge, which she uses to gently press into her daughter's face.

"Ungh.."

"She's awake. Jack, take over the skillet, hm?"

He raises his hands, grabbing the spatula and scraping omelette off the pan, sliding it into the plate.

"Honey, it's time to go to school." Angela brushes the teen's hair out of her eyes, which are half lidded still.

"I'm sick."

Angela shakes her head, but touches Hana's temple anyways. "You're not sick."

"Pleaseeee Mom.. I'll do anything. Please…" The young teenager begins to rub her eyes.

"Hush, darling. It's just eight hours. You can make it, then your father's gonna take us out on a family trip. How does that sound?"

Jack looks back at Angela with narrowed eyes. Angela shrugs. Jack shakes his head. Now that was just _typical._

"Where."

Jack slides a plate of fresh omelette, loaded with creamy cheese and chives, over to her chair.

"To the pound to get you a puppy."

Hana wakes up real fast.

"I was kidding, junior."

* * *

"Hey, buddy. Mako. C'mon, I'm gonna be late!"

The large man grunted, sitting up, putting his glasses on from his bedside table. The kid was hobbled over in his signature slouch, wearing his shorts and a V neck full of holes.

Mako had passed out with his head in a pizza box, and the oil had seeped into his silvery hair, so he dumped a glass of water over his head in the sink. Their trailer was absolutely filthy, but Jamison remained clean, miraculously. Mako suspected the teenager was taking daily showers, but the exact reason remained unfathomable.

"About time you got up! I'm gonna miss that class with the english bloke, and he ain't gonna be too happy about that, you hear me?"

Mako grunted, thankful he didn't have his shift at the garage till noon. Getting up to drive James to school every day (when was the kid gonna get a license?) was hassle enough.

"Aye, I got you some grub. Here's a bag of crisps, found it in the old toaster."

"I'll eat it later." He said, in his boar voice. Jamison loved the boar voice. "You'll scare the crap out of those jokers who complain bout my shorts!" He cackled, after Mako had used it last week to "convince" an irritating Mcdonald's employee to replace a Mcrib that had ended up in James' tray.

They clambered into the pickup, the old bucket of bolts sagging on the left, James sticking his head out the right window.

"I don't believe in this school stuff." Said Mako.

"Yeah, yeah, you've told me that every morning. I'm tellin ya, it's gonna lead to some nice moolah once I get one of them 'degrees', aye? Let's be patient."

Mako grunted.


End file.
